The Revue

At night you hear it again, the thunder breaking the sky, the sky flinging complicated rain against the glass windows, threatening to come in. . .

In my dreams, I collect the shimmers scattered on the journey from body to body, like a fish that jumps from ocean to estuary, scales bright enough to notify the trees of their greenness. . .

MY BROTHER, IN EIGHT PANELS | DRIVING TO THE NORTH SHORE, I IMAGINE MY BROTHER

Over the cheery intermission music, Cole could hear Little One’s whistling breath through her nose. They watched as other families moved through the aisles like fish in a narrow aquarium, winding around one another. . .

GEOGRAPHY | LISTEN

Goodnight Moon | Harold and the Purple Crayon | The Going to Bed Book

There are birds, there are green lizards, there are other snails but some of them are cannibals. . .

Across the open space, a yellow-spotted monitor flickers its head to look at her. . .

I should replace the shingles, which are haunted, and all of my moss-eaten furniture, roaming from room to room. . .

Shaken Face If I Stay on My Own | You Believe You are Building an Order You Resemble